


Ben's Worst Nightmare

by bookworm03



Series: Tumblr Fic [2]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Canon Era, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5284682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm03/pseuds/bookworm03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben's worst nightmare totally just came true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ben's Worst Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Dave Returns. Just a little, fun thing originally posted on tumblr :).

Ten beers didn’t happen. She’s draining the contents of her third resting against a wall in the corner of the bar when Ben finds her. He’s twitching and strung out and she knows his consummate professional campaign manager mask is starting to crack. It’s been a stressful day for him too - incredibly stressful - and there are bags under his eyes and his hair is messy from running his hands through it. Her fingers twitch to smooth it down because it’s hers, her hair to touch, to thread her fingers through just as much as hers is his.

“Hey,” he rests his shoulder on the wall beside her, but still doesn’t touch her. He hasn’t touched her in a while - not since they left the car to meet Dave at the restaurant - which is strange. They’re not exactly overt with the PDA, but he drapes his arm around her occasionally, squeezes her waist, leans down and murmurs in her ear, rubs her knee while she drives. It’s as if he’s been making a point to keep his distance to avoid any additional awkwardness tonight.

“Hey,” she smiles sleepily. Her field of vision is hazy from exhaustion and alcohol and with Trumple’s endorsement - thanks to her brilliant campaign manager’s persuasive tactics - her work here is done. She’s settled things with Dave and it’s time to go.

She fishes her keys out of her purse and hands them to Ben.

“You’re okay to drive, right? Should I consult my chart? How many have you - ”

“Oh…none,” he takes them from her and shrugs when she lifts an eyebrow. “It’s…don’t worry about it.”

“You must need one.”

He chuckles in that self-deprecating way he has. The way where he lowers his eyes to his feet and redness creeps up the back of his neck, like when she tells him he’s the greatest campaign manager in the world. He doesn’t believe her, not yet, but she’ll make him. They still have a few more weeks of campaigning to do and despite what he insists about how much better of a candidate she is than everyone else, Ben wasn’t at the arena that day and Ben didn’t see what a mess they were without him. If she wins it will be as much his victory as it is hers, and she wants to make sure he knows that.

She wants to tell him, to reassure him, to thank him for managing to be so calm and grounding when he probably should’ve been losing his shit… Because they’ve spent all day surrounded by cops, and one particular cop just happens to still be in love with her and handcuffed him to a pipe in the bathroom…

But he’d been pretty perfect. He’d talked to Trumple while she dealt with Dave and got her what they came for and was generally amazing.

“Are you ready to go?”

Ben tilts his head curiously. “We don’t have to if you want to…” he glances around. “Talk to more people or - ”

“I don’t,” she rubs his arm soothingly and feels more than hears him exhale as soon as contact is made. 

“Let’s go home and you can have a beer and relax.”

Ben sighs sweetly, the way he does right before bed when she kisses whatever piece of skin is nearest and whispers goodnight and she loves him.

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“Alright, let’s go home,” he settles a palm in the small of her back to guide her towards the door, but she really just wishes he would take her hand, tangle their fingers and stop worrying about displaying affection. He should stop being so nice, considerate and understanding of her ex-boyfriend’s feelings. He’d been plenty nice, considerate and understanding; he can hold her hand now.

She takes it upon herself to pluck his arm away and slip her fingers through his, catching the smile playing at the corners of his lips when she does.

“Your place - ”

“My place?” she suggests in unison and then laughs. Andy and April’s is campaign headquarters which makes it practical for a lot of reasons, but hers is quiet, even if it does have excessive amounts of birdhouses and Time magazines. She really wants quiet tonight.

Her cheek rests against his arm when they step through the doors and the cold air hits them. Leslie smiles and squeezes the the spot where they’re joined.

“Thanks for getting me the endorsement.”

“It was you,” he shrugs. “Your plan, you as a candidate. I just reminded - ”

“You,” she stops him and grips both arms. “You, got me Trumple’s endorsement. Thank you. I know tonight was kind of brutal for you.”

He snorts and drops his forehead to hers. “Kind of?”

She grins, slipping her arms under his jacket .

“A cop’s in love with my girlfriend; that’s my worst nightmare.”

“Well, your girlfriend’s not in love with a cop, so - ”

“I know that,” he cuts her off, more abruptly than either of them expected. He sighs. “No, I do, I…it was just a weird night. I got handcuffed to a urinal so he could talk to you for two minutes That’s how badly he wanted to talk to you, Leslie.”

“Well,” she slings her arm around his waist and leans into him. “It doesn’t matter. He told me you left and I knew that was false. Very false. What exactly did he say in the bathroom?”

“Uhhhh,” Ben steers her towards the car. “Honestly, pretty sure I blacked out. I just kept thinking about the gun. I think I said you have a boyfriend and you weren’t….it wasn’t like that for you - ” he grunts when she drags him into a kiss.

“Take me home.”

“Gladly.”

*****

When Ben’s on her couch, tie undone and shoes off, Leslie brings him a beer and climbs into his lap. His palms glide up to cup her hips while she presses her mouth to his hot skin.

“Mhmm,” she murmurs when his lips find her earlobe. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“I am?”

“Uh huh,” she flicks her tongue against his skin and then offers him the beer. Ben takes a long sip, still holding her waist. She watches his Adam’s apple bob as the cool liquid slides down his throat and kisses the spot. He mhmms.

“Yeah, okay, I need this.”

Leslie grins against his neck and he pokes her gently. “What?”

“I know something else you need,” she wiggles her pelvis against him and Ben groans as his cock starts to respond. She worms a hand between them and brushes her fingers over him teasingly.

“Babe,” he whispers. She nuzzles along his jaw and finally finds his lips. The kiss is slow and his tongue tastes mostly of beer, but with undertones of Ben coming through. Ben who, even when he’s being cynical and spiralling, tastes of sunlight and rainbows and happiness to her. She winds both her arms around his neck and rocks gently as they take turns exploring each other’s mouths. The kisses are slow, a little lazy, but deep, and soul-satiating. He’s reaching every part of her without the pulsating urgency they exchange when they’re building to sex. One of them opens his shirt more and her palms glide over his heartbeat. Racing. His heart’s racing.

She kisses away from his mouth and through his shirt and Ben twines his fingers in her hair.

“Leslie,” he whispers, breathing ragged. He sounds undone already and she loves that.

“I want to,” she insists. He’s anything but selfish in bed and sometimes his own neurosis makes it hard for him to just…let her do this when he knows he doesn’t have it in him to return the favor. She doesn’t need it tonight though, but he does, badly, and she wants to give to him.

She worms his fly down and opens his slacks, tugging his boxers out of the way as she settles on the floor. Ben sighs, his beer clutched in the palm not holding her head. His neck drops and she can tell his eyes are shut before her lips even wrap around him.

Sometimes when he’s this stressed/sleepy it takes a little longer for him to get going, but tonight’s the opposite. Tonight he’s hard in her mouth instantly, throbbing more vigorously between her lips with each pass and coming quickly on her tongue with no verbal warning. Instead he just tightens his grip on her hair as she takes him fully, smiling when he explodes with a grunt.

He devors her with a kiss - he always does - when she climbs back onto his lap. It’s sloppy and uneven, but it’s sweet and his fingers ghost over every inch of her of their own volition. Leslie mumbles and rubs his arms. Ben chuffs a laugh and takes another sip of his beer.

“Fuck,” his forehead bumps into her jaw. She cups the back of his neck.

“Let’s go to bed,” she suggests gently, palms settling on his chest. Ben kisses whatever is under his lips and nods. She slides off carefully and he takes her hand with another kiss before steering her towards the stairs.

They undress and brush their teeth without really talking, save for Ben asking where his spare toothbrush’s hiding in the mess that is her bathroom. He flops facedown on her mattress, hair sprouting everywhere and making her giggle as she cuddles up with him. His arms curl around her, palm settling perfectly in the curve of her hip as though his body was designed to hold hers. His lips brush her cheek and then her shoulder.

“If I’m a good campaign manager boyfriend it’s because you’re the most amazing candidate girlfriend — ”

“Ben, if you say that again tonight I’m gonna punch you in the face,” she smacks her lips against his forehead. “Go to sleep.”

He obeys with a snuffle, nuzzling against her, and whispering _Love you_ , soft breaths puffing into her skin. He’s snoring quietly a few minutes later and Leslie smiles.

Ben never had anything to worry about and she’s so glad he knows that.


End file.
